


i'm a little unsteady

by electricindigo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Crying, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Panic Attacks, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Seizures, Wetting, everyone is trying, may is trying, peter needs to be protected, teenagers not knowing how to deal with problems, tony is Trying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-02 22:18:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11518641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricindigo/pseuds/electricindigo
Summary: Peter forgets how to take care of himself sometimes.-Or: A collection of Hurt!Peter headcanons that I finally found the time to write about.(Chapter 1: Peter’s self-destructive tendencies are exposed to Tony when he has a fever-induced seizure in public.)(Chapter 2: Peter goes to a party, gets drunk, and bumps into someone who reminds him of Skip. He has a panic attack in front of Michelle.)





	1. Seizure: Tony

**Author's Note:**

> i literally cannot get enough of tom holland's spider-man portrayal.
> 
> i love angst and whump so i've decided to start a series of hurt!peter one shots!

It starts with a whimper.

 

Tony’s in the middle of handing Peter a menu from the restaurant they’re at when he hears it. Peter’s clutching his head, eyes clenched shut in obvious discomfort. He gives him an odd look. “Peter? What do you want?”

 

“Anything,” he says quietly, not opening his eyes. “I’m not that hungry.”

 

“Really?” Tony frowns. “You haven’t eaten the whole day. You barely touched your dinner last night, too.”

 

Tony had invited Peter to spend the weekend at the new Avengers facility to help him upgrade the suit for optimal usage, but the kid was disoriented and distracted the whole time. He let it slide at first but had to admit that Peter’s short attention span started to get on his nerves. The kid had a faraway look in his eyes the entire time they were together, which made their weekend ‘retreat’ useless. Thinking the kid was just bored, Tony offered to bring him to a Thai restaurant for lunch and meet up with May before parting ways.

 

“Sorry,” Tony hears Peter say softly. Then, he clears his throat. “Um, could you just order for me?”

 

“Sure,” Tony shrugs, calling over a waiter and trying to ignore how Peter flinches at the staff member’s overly enthusiastic voice. When the waiter leaves, Tony begins showing Peter more plans for his new suit. Tony tells him all the plans for proper and safe training at the Avengers facility every other weekend so that his skills develop and he doesn’t get himself into too much trouble.

 

“Anyway, we’ll work on that next week, okay?” He says once he’s finished.

 

Peter blinks and coughs quietly, ignoring Tony.

 

“Kid?” Tony says, voice louder.

 

“Sorry,” Peter flinches before he replies, looking up. “Could you repeat that?”

 

Tony frowns and does, telling him a less detailed version of his plans. However, by the time he’s done, Peter is zoning off again. “Peter!” He snaps.

 

Peter jerks and looks up, his face a little bit pale. “S-sorry,” he says shakily. “Could you - could you repeat that?”

 

“You know, kid, I invited you and your aunt out for Thai and you’re being a bit rude by not even listening to what I’m trying to tell you,” Tony says harshly, giving Peter a stern look. It comes out meaner than expected, but he can’t help but feel irritated at Peter’s seemingly obvious need to get away from him.

 

“I’m sorry,” the teenager says quietly, voice sad. Tony feels a little bit bad. “My head and stomach really hurt.”

 

Tony sighs. He’s a bit embarrassed, really - this is the first time he’s actually trying to make a personal connection with the kid outside of being a superhero, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Shoving those thoughts away, he reaches out and touches Peter’s forehead, frowning at how warm he feels. “Now that you mention it, you don’t look well at all. And you’re burning up. Should I call your aunt?”

 

“No, don’t call,” he says quickly. “It’s fine. I think I just need water. Could… Could I get my bag from the car?”

 

* * *

 

 

“Your aunt is almost here,” Tony checks his phone once they get in the parking lot. “You don’t look so good. I can take you guys home.”

 

Peter kid looks pale and sweaty. “No,” he shakes his head sluggishly. “It’s ‘kay. I just- I just need-”

 

Peter can’t finish his sentence. He opens his mouth again, but then his knees buckle and he stiffens up, crashing to his knees in the middle of the parking lot.

 

Tony curses and rushes over to the kid who is curling up on the ground in the middle of the overly hot parking lot. Peter is trembling, his eyes wide and unfocused, and both his hands are twitching. “Peter,” he says urgently, tapping his cheek. “Peter, what’s the matter?”

 

“Feel weird,” Peter admits. His voice is slurring and he’s bringing both hands to cover up his ears, curling in on himself. Tony’s starting to panic, and a few people come to see what the commotion is.

 

Tony frowns, shaking him gently. “Hey, kiddo. What’s going on? You gotta help me out here.”

 

“I don’t know,” he whines, sounding terrified. “Feels, feels f-familiar, but, but it’s not good, I don’t-”

 

“Okay, stop talking,” Tony interrupts, sounding terrified himself. But he has to keep calm. He’s the adult here. “I’m gonna call your aunt, okay? You’re going to be just fine.”

 

Peter opens his mouth like a gaping fish, reaching out to clutch Tony’s suit jacket before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he tips over before he starts to convulse in the middle of the parking lot.

 

“Fuck!” Tony shouts as Peter violently hits his head on the gravel. The teenager is flailing on the ground, jerking back and forth while his entire form trembles. It’s a seizure, Tony  _knows_ it’s a seizure, so he grabs his phone and starts timing it.  _Come on, Tony. Think. What else did you learn in that first-aid class you took years ago?_ There are people around him, looking concerned. One offers to call an ambulance.

 

Before Tony can say anything to them, May calls.

 

“May,” he gasps out before she can say anything. “Parking lot. Peter’s having a seizure. What do I do?”

 

“What?” May replies, voice pinched. “Again?!”

 

“Again?!” Tony frowns, then flinches when Peter starts thrashing again. “Wait. May, what do I do?”

 

“Time it. Stay there,” she says before hanging up, her voice sounding panicked.

 

* * *

 

By the time May arrives (she arrives in about thirty seconds, but to Tony it feels like hours), Peter is still seizing. She runs to them, pulling off her sweater and bundling it up to place under Peter’s thrashing head while she carefully rolls him to his side. “May, what can I do?” Tony asks, voice borderline on hysteric.

 

“Continue to time it. Is there a blanket in your car?” She asks Tony. “And could you alert the staff here to not let anyone else near us?”

 

Tony doesn’t hesitate. He follows all of May’s instructions with no question. With shaky hands, he unlocks the trunk of his car and grabs a thick blanket, running over to Peter and May. “What do I do with these?”

 

“Lay one under his head,” May says, before pausing. “Then do you have another one?”

 

He nods and stands up again, about to ask why, until he sees the front of Peter’s pants start to grow wet and dark. The teenager has wet himself, right there in the middle of the parking lot. Tony runs off.

 

By the time he gets back with the other blanket, Peter has stopped seizing. His lips are blue from all the blood rushing around his body and his eyes are still unfocused, but at least he can somewhat respond to stimuli now. He starts to whimper and tug at the front of his jeans, mumbling incoherently. “G’off,” the kid whines, tugging at his zipper.

 

May gently grabs his his hands and kisses his forehead. “Calm down, Peter,” she says. “We’ll get you cleaned up soon.”

 

A bunch of people have stopped by to watch them. Tony gives each of them bad looks until they awkwardly walk away before gently draping the blanket over his waist.

 

“Three minutes and twenty-two seconds,” he says, stopping the timer. “No need to call an ambulance, but we should have him checked out just in case.”

 

“I’m gonna need your help. He can’t walk on his own.” May says once Peter’s breaths have evened out. Tony is by her side immediately, gently hoisting the floppy teen into his arms. Peter clings to him and hides his face in his neck, trembling lightly from the physical and emotional exhaustion.

 

May slides in the backseat and motions for Tony to hand her nephew over. Tony complies, letting May hold the teen in her arms, and tries to ignore the way his hands are shaking too. “Hospital?” He confirms, getting in front seat. “I know a doctor there who knows about the whole superhero thing.”

 

* * *

 

 

When they get there, May starts to shake Peter awake. Eventually, Peter mumbles something incoherent, his eyes glazed over and unfocused. Then, he opens his mouth and says, “Aunt M…May, ‘m wet,”

 

“I know Peter,” May whispers, rubbing his back and tightening the blanket around his waist.

 

“Don’ like,” he starts to whimper, his body trembling with suppressed sobs. “Ngh… Yuck.”

 

“I know, baby, I know,” May continues to soothe him. “We’re at the hospital. Can you remember what happened?”

 

Peter bites his lip and furrows his eyebrows, seemingly trying to think. He begins to breathe heavily again and his lower lip starts to tremble. “N-no,” he gasps, shaking his head. “No, I-I can’t, I-”

 

“Okay, that’s okay,” May says gently. “You had a seizure, Peter. We’ll figure it out once we go down, yeah? They’ll take care of you, you don’t have to worry. There’s no need to cry.”

 

Peter starts to cry anyway. Tony feels out of place - this seems like such a personal family moment, but he can’t help but notice how young Peter is acting. His bottom lip is trembling viciously now and a few tears have started to drip down his cheeks, and his hands are gripping May’s shirt tightly.

 

“No, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. We’re gonna go down and sort this, okay?” May says gently, kissing his forehead and letting her lips linger there for a few moments.

 

“Don’t want,” Peter says quietly, voice cracking. He looks up and Tony sees that his eyes are  _still_ full of tears. “Don’t wanna go down like… Like this,”

 

“Hey,” Tony speaks up automatically, placing a gentle hand on his back. “No one’s gonna judge you for this okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

 

Peter clenches his eyes shut. More tears leak out of his eyes. “Embarrassed,” he whimpers, shaking his head over and over. Tony can’t blame him. He’d be embarrassed too if he was fifteen and he caused a scene in public,  _and_ had an accident to top it all off. Peter’s already shy enough as it is.

 

They let him cry it out for a few more minutes until he finally calms down enough for May to open the door. She steps out and scurries inside while Tony tries to help Peter walk. It doesn’t work, so he takes him in his arms and tries his best not to cringe at the dampness of his jeans as the teenager squirms around in his arms.

 

The process of getting Peter checked out is quick and efficient. He’s not diagnosed as an epileptic, so that’s a relief to both May and Tony, and soon he’s lying down in a hospital bed while Tony’s doctor friend checks his vitals.

 

“We had to take a blood test,” the doctor says after a few minutes, her eyes serious. “Many things could have caused the seizure, actually. His body was overheating, he was - still is, actually - lacking a considerable amount of sleep, and the only things in his system were nutrients enough for half an energy bar, and a lot of sleeping pills. I’m sure you know that he can’t be on an empty stomach because of his enhanced metabolism, too.”

 

May places her hand over her heart, speechless. There is concern clouding the doctor’s eyes. She lowers her voice. “Mrs. Parker, I hope I am not overstepping my boundaries, but I think your son needs to see somebody if he’s willing to do these self destructive things to himself.”

 

There’s nothing more to be said. “I’ll be back to check on him in a while,” the doctor bows and leaves the two of them alone with Peter. The only sounds heard being the gentle beeping of Peter’s heart monitor.

 

Tony sits down and has a quiet moment of introspection. There have been times where Peter acted more like a young child than a fifteen year old with superpowers, but this one takes the cake, and Tony wishes he knew another way to help him. He feels horrible for not seeing how poorly Peter had been feeling.

 

“He was acting a lot younger than fifteen.” He says eventually.

 

May sighs and turns to look Tony in the eye. “If you’re saying that because he had an accident, I’ll have you know that-”

 

“I know, May,” he interrupts, feeling a bit offended that she would think that. “I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about the way he was talking. He sounded very much like a child.”

 

“He  _is_ a child.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

May looks at the sleeping teenager curled up on the hospital bed and nods. “I think it’s because this happened before,” she says quietly, seemingly stuck in a daydream. “Once. When he realized that his parents weren’t coming back.”

 

Tony freezes. That explains Peter’s sudden age regression. “Was it… Was it for the same reason?” He asks, clearing his throat.

 

“It was because he didn’t eat anything for two days, and I was too busy stressing out to notice.”

 

“How old was he?”

 

“Seven.”

 

Tony lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Damn,” he says, voice forlorn. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” May says tearily, but even Tony can tell that she’s trying her hardest not to blame him. “Peter really just doesn’t tell anyone when he’s feeling under the weather. Especially not you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tony doesn’t know the exact moment he dozes off, but he knows when he wakes up. Peter’s heart monitor is going crazy and he hurriedly goes over to calm down the teenager. “Peter, hey, Peter, you’re okay, calm down,” he says to the panicking teen. Peter sits up and looks around wildly before wincing and holding his head, lying back down slowly.

 

May hurries to his side, giving him a small smile and brushing his hair away from his face. “Hey tough guy. You still feeling confused?”

 

Peter chooses not to reply. Instead, he rubs his eyes and leans into May’s touch, sighing quietly. “What happened?” He mumbles.

 

“You had a seizure,” Tony speaks up. “A fever induced one. Because you haven’t been sleeping well at all. Apparently, you took all the sleeping pills I keep in the guest bathroom near your quarters.”

 

Peter flushes and looks down, then makes a face. “Uh, why am I wearing sweatpants?”

 

May shushes him and runs her hand through his hair. Peter’s eyes widen in realization. “Oh. I’m disgusting.”

 

“No, no,” May says right away. “Stop that. You couldn’t have controlled it.”

 

Peter whines and hides his face in the hospital pillow. “Still embarrassing,” he peeps out quietly.

 

No one says anything for a while, and Tony starts to feel out of place again. He clears his throat and stands up, dusting his hands on his lap. “I have to make a few calls,” he says to them, making up an excuse so he could leave the two alone. “Feel better, okay kid?”

 

“Th-thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter nods, waving at him. Tony lingers for a few moments before opening the door and exiting.

 

Through the small glass window of the door, however, Tony sees May reach out and hold Peter tightly, whispering something in his ear. Peter’s face starts to crumple. His hands go around her back to embrace her and he hides his face in her neck, shoulders shaking. Tony lets go of a breath again and swiftly turns around, trying to ignore how heavy his heart feels.

 

He makes a mental note to pay for the hospital bill. He sets a reminder to send May a long apology message. He sets a reminder to send Peter a message too, telling him to get better soon so they can talk about this. He texts Happy about the whole situation, too.

 

At the back of Tony’s mind, he realizes that he needs to go back inside the room to get the suit back - not to confiscate it, but so he can add more features to make sure that if this happens again, he can get notified right away. But that doesn’t need to happen now.

 

For now, he lets the Parker family (small, broken, but still complete) hold each other. He lets Peter act like the kid that he is. He lets Peter be taken care of.


	2. Flashback: Michelle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes to a party, gets drunk, and bumps into someone who reminds him of Skip. He has a panic attack in front of Michelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for implied/referenced sexual abuse from when peter was a 12 year old.

A week before junior year starts, Flash throws a house party.

 

He actually invites Peter and Ned this time. They aren’t friends (not even close), but their supposed hatred for each other kind of fades away over the summer between sophomore year and junior year. 

 

“The only reason I want you guys there is so you can hear my latest mix,” he says when he calls Ned. Peter stifles a laugh when Ned tells him this.

 

“I don’t think I wanna go, though,” Peter says over the phone, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. Ned sighs loudly. “Pete, come on! Live a little. Do something as  _ Peter,  _ for once, not Spider-Man.”

 

Ned, the wonderful friend that he is, decides that in order for Peter to regain confidence and lose the constant anxiety from being Spider-Man, he needs to be social and to be around peers. On Friday night, he shows up at the front door of his apartment, grinning. He basically drags Peter out of the house, thanking May for driving them and smiling wider  when he sees the stereotypical party - red cups, foul smells, loud music - and grabs Peter’s hand as he runs inside.

 

It’s bigger than Peter thought it would be.

 

Loud, thumping music roars from the open doorway. There are a  _ lot  _ of upperclassmen, and even a few alumni, which adds to Peter’s stress. He hadn’t realized Flash knew so many people. Wincing, he curls his shoulders in and laces his fingers together, twiddling with his thumbs. The sight of a bunch of older boys is giving him a bit of anxiety. He should’ve brought his earphones.

 

“Come on,” Ned huffs, tugging Peter forward. “What’s up, man?”

 

Peter frowns. “Just a bit loud,” he says, picking up his pace. He wants to explain some more, but he’s embarrassed, he doesn’t know how to talk about the reason for his Spider-sense tingling without sounding dumb. There’s no threat, anyway, so he tries his best to ignore it while they meet up with Michelle.

 

/

 

It starts to become unbearable when he is separated from both Ned and Michelle.

 

Everything is too loud and bright, and there are people touching and bumping into him every other second, and he’s starting to feel the same kind of fear he felt when he was 12 and he wishes Aunt May or Uncle Ben were here to help him calm down. It gets to the point where he accidentally drops his drink on some girl’s shoes, and she squeals in annoyance, which makes him panic even more. “I’m sorry,” he gasps out, trying to help her. She shoves him away and walks off with her friends, causing quite the scene and leaving Peter surrounded by watchful eyes.

 

Peter’s face burns. He wants to leave before he embarrasses himself some more. He mumbles another apology to no one in general, then begins walking (more like stumbling) towards the door, bumping into Michelle on the way there and ignoring her questions of concern. He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other.

 

Once he’s out of there, he sucks in a deep breath and lets it go shakily. The air here is cooler and quieter, and Peter starts to feel his heartbeat slowing down, thank God. Wiping his forehead, he begins to walk aimlessly down the street, and into a group of older boys smoking in the corner.

 

“S-sorry,” Peter peeps out, feeling his heartbeat rise again. His hands start to shake.  _ God, this is exactly what I wanted to avoid. _

 

“It’s fine, shrimp,” one of the older guy laughs, then squints. “Oh hey, I know you! You’re like the smartest guy on the decathlon team!”

 

Peter laughs awkwardly and looks at his shoes, blushing as the conversation around him stops.  _ Get out, get out, get out.  _ He needs to  _ get out _ of there, to go find Ned or call May, he doesn’t like - he can’t being around older boys like this - it hits too close to home and he doesn’t know how to fight them off, he’s not strong enough and he doesn’t have his Spider-Man suit -

 

The guy slaps Peter’s back. “And you’ve been drinking too,” he laughs. “Can’t believe our school’s Einstein is out gettin’ drunk as hell.”

 

Peter freezes. _ Einstein. _

 

He whimpers, and with a sudden burst of adrenaline, he shoves the guy, earning a few exclamations of confusion from the older boys around him before he desperately stumbles out of the way. They’re all looking at him, there are people trying to ask if he’s okay, but he can’t think of anything other than  _ Skip Skip Skip, oh my God Skip called me that before he - when he - _

 

He runs back into the house, scrambles upstairs, and trips into a quiet bedroom, barely making it to the bathroom before he’s throwing up the vodka and half of the sandwich he had for dinner. His hands are shaking and his skin feels way too tight, and his mind is a constant swirl of panic and fear. Peter continues to gag until there’s nothing to throw up anymore, then collapses against the wall and tries to get his breathing to settle, which for some reason, is just. Not. Working.

 

Eventually, he stands up on wobbly feet and flushes the toilet, then goes to the sink to wash his face. It doesn’t calm him down like it should and soon he finds himself curled up against the wall again, holding his head in his hands and trying to calm down his breathing and his rising heart rate.

 

_ I should be over this.  _ Peter thinks, clenching his eyes shut.  _ Skip isn’t even here, he doesn’t even go to this school, he - he got in trouble, he’s not going to hurt me anymore. And I’m Spider-Man, I shouldn’t even be worried, I’ve taken down worse people, this was three years ago, I really need to get it together. _

 

But no matter how hard Peter tries to relax, all he can think of is the feeling of Skip’s cold fingers on his thighs and the familiar, heavy feeling of dread that grows in his gut.

 

“Uh, Peter?”

 

Peter flinches at the sudden voice, not even hearing the door open in the midst of his anxiety. He scoots away instinctively, holding his hands up to shield his face. “No,” he mumbles, voice slurring. “Don’t wanna do this.”

 

“Hey,” the voice says again. Peter sees someone crouch in front of him and gently pulls his hands away. “Hey, Peter. What’s happening?”

 

Oh. It’s Michelle.

 

Now Peter’s just embarrassed. He shakes his head and wipes his eyes, trying to get his eyes to focus on a rather interesting mark on one of the bathroom floor tiles. Michelle reaches out and rubs his back. “Hey. Pete. What’s the matter?”

 

“Panic attack,” he manages to gasp out. “B-but, it’s okay. I’m gonna b-be fine.”

 

The rest of her words are muffled by all of the sounds all around him - the loud bass of the music, the shouts of his peers downstairs, the dripping water from the leaking faucet - it  _ hurts.  _ Peter groans and curls himself in some more, hiding his face. Distantly, he hears Michelle stand up and switch off the lights. He sighs in relief. That’s better.

 

Michelle sits next to him and rubs his shoulder gently. “Breathe,” she says clearly. Peter’s never heard her speak this softly before. “It’s almost over.”

  
She’s right. He believes her. He nods quickly and scoots just a little bit closer, letting his hand grip her fingers to find a sense of balance. And as soon as the panic started, it’s over just like that, leaving him with shame in his stomach and weariness in his bones.

 

“I wanna go home,” Peter admits quietly, wiping tears off his cheeks. He  _ always  _ cries when he gets panic attacks, and he hates it.

 

“Here,” Michelle says awkwardly, handing him his phone. “I found this outside, I guess you dropped it. Uh, you should call your aunt.”

 

“Yeah,” he says shakily, unlocking it and opening his inbox.

 

**peter (01:13):** **_may couldd u pick me up_ **

**aunt may (01:15):** **_Is everything alright, sweetie? I’m getting ready now._ **

**peter (01:18):** **_saw some guuy who reminded me of skip and i freaked out but michelle helped me and i just dont wanna stay out anymore_ **

**aunt may (01:21):** **_Oh no, honey. Stay with Michelle and Ned, okay? I’m on my way._ **

 

His panic recedes, which is automatically replaced with embarrassment. “Did people say anything?” He asks Michelle, his voice cracking.

 

She shrugs. “The guy you pushed away was confused, but not angry. They’ll forget about it.”

 

He closes his eyes and blows out a strained breath. “This is embarrassing.”

 

Michelle shrugs again, playing with her shoelaces. “Not your fault, loser. Everyone’s drunk and doing stupid shit either way. Anyway, did you aunt reply?”

 

Peter nods, biting his nails. “She’s on her way to pick me up,” he says softly.

 

“Alright,” Michelle says, whipping out her phone. “I’ll text Ned, okay? He’s probably looking for us.”

 

Sure enough, Ned comes barging in a few minutes later. He’s drunk and uncoordinated, but Peter feels his chest grow warm when he realizes how much his best friend cares for him. “Pete! You okay? What happened?!”

 

Peter shrugs and looks at his hands before lowering his voice. “Some guy reminded me of Skip.”

 

There’s an angry realization in Ned’s eyes. “Did he try or do anything?” He asks, voice scarily quiet. Peter shakes his head quickly and blushes in embarrassment, no. He didn’t.

 

Ned sighs in relief and gives him a concerned look, taking off his hat. “Sorry we got separated, man,” he pouts before turning to Michelle. “Take care of him okay? I’ll sober up and get him water then come fetch you guys when May’s here.”

 

Ned leaves the two of them to sit in silence on the grimy floor of the dimly lit bathroom. Peter fiddles with the hem of his shirt, trying to drown out the muffled sounds of the party downstairs so he can focus on Michelle’s presence only.

 

Eventually, she clears her throat. “So. First question. Are you drunk?”

 

“Not really,” Peter replies, fiddling with his shirt.

 

“Okay. Next question. Who is Skip?”

 

Peter breathes in harshly and shakes his head sharply. “No one.”

 

“No one?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Didn’t sound like no one if the thought of him made you freak out.”

 

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Michelle.”   
  


“How come Ned knows, then?” Michelle asks, one eyebrow raised. “You hide a lot of things, Peter.”

 

Peter knows she isn’t trying to be nosy, but his emotional capacity is fried and he just. He can’t deal with this right now. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, he just can’t. “Ned knows everything about me.” He croaks out.

 

She seems to get the hint, so they sit in silence for a while.

 

“Peter,” Michelle speaks eventually, and her voice is so gentle and earnest that it almost starts to hurt. “I know it’s not really my place to say, but you’ve been acting extra tired and anxious lately, and uh, tonight was the worst I’ve seen you act. Are you sure everything’s alright with you?”

 

He doesn’t know what to say to her.

 

So Peter likes her - that’s for sure. The feeling had crept up on him suddenly and without any warning, making him realize how he felt only when he’d fallen in too deep. And there are things he’d rather not tell her about his shitty grade school life (seriously, the whole Skip thing happened three years ago and he should be over it by now) because of how embarrassed he is and how weak he feels. Despite every expensive therapy session May and Ben had put him through, he still feels like it’s his fault.

 

So, yeah, he might be lying to her when he says he’s okay right now. But it’s not a big deal. It shouldn’t be.

 

“Peter?”

 

Peter blinks and then nods. “I’m fine, Michelle.”

 

“I think you’re lying.”

 

Peter laughs, but there’s no humor behind it. It sounds empty and forced. “I could sit here and tell you a hundred and one crazy things that happened to me this year, but I  _ still  _ won’t wanna talk about this, this Skip thing. Not right now, at least.”

 

Michelle quickly stops herself. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me,” she says right away. “I know how it feels to be pressured into talking about things that make you uncomfortable.”

 

“Yeah,” Peter replies, taking a deep breath. “Um, I wanna tell you. But not right now.”

 

“Okay,” she says sincerely. “If you change your mind and wanna talk, I’ll listen to you.” And that’s it. Peter is genuinely thankful. Silently, he reaches out to hold her hand, and he tries his best to ignore the fluttering, light feeling in his stomach when she intertwines their fingers together.

 

“I’ll tell you another time. Just not now.” He whispers quietly, leaning on her. “There’s too much people here. And it’s a private conversation.”

 

“I get it, loser,” Michelle smiles. “You don’t have to keep making excuses. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

 

“Thanks, Michelle.”   
  


“No worries,” she says, squeezing his hand. “And come on, I already told you to call me MJ.”

 

“I thought your friends only called you that?” Peter quips, giving her a small smirk. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully, shoving him lightly. Peter laughs. The tension in the air eases a bit, and he breathes out a sigh of relief.

 

Michelle doesn’t push him to speak anymore or make him feel bad for not talking. She doesn’t try to start another conversation that would probably tire Peter out more. Instead, she sits on the bathroom floor and waits with him in silence, silently squeezing his hand and making him feel not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry it took me so long! university is taking up sooo much of my time. x

**Author's Note:**

> english isn't my first language, so please forgive me AND correct me if i have some mistakes!
> 
> please leave comments (and requests) down below.
> 
> thank you for reading. x


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